August 2004, San Antonio, Texas
"I hear you're getting transferred."
"Sergeant," I said, saluting from my bed.
"I'd tell you to at ease, but you look comfortable enough. This is for you," he said, handing me a certificate and a small box.
"Sir?"
"You're receiving the Purple Heart for your services to the country."
I held the small box in my hand. "But I thought I was getting discharged?"
"Honorably Discharged. With the valor of a Purple Heart. You were wounded in combat, Specialist. This is what we do."
I was speechless. Receiving an award for getting shot seemed ironic, after watching all of my convoy die in front of me. "Sir, I don't…"
"It's standard protocol. Don't make a fuss about it. Just enjoy the rest of your life, Specialist."